


Barclay and the terrible, horrible, no good very bad day

by ConceitedDemon



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, I have no idea what I’m doing, The summary is bad sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 20:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConceitedDemon/pseuds/ConceitedDemon
Summary: After losing a bet with Ned, Barclay has to work a day at the Cryptonomica. It gets worse from there.





	Barclay and the terrible, horrible, no good very bad day

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on AO3, and the first fic I’ve written in years. It is barely organized and not transformative at all, but I had fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading it

Barclay sighed and stared accusingly at the modified wookie mask. It was around ninety eight degrees in Kepler, West Virginia, not to mention humid as hell, and Barclay was wearing a furry, beat up wookie costume over his normal clothes (even as hot as it was, there was no way he was going to wear Ned Chicane’s used costume without a protective layer of jeans and flannel), sweating buckets. Damn it, he hadn’t even gone outside yet, and he was already uncomfortably moist.  
“Better put that on and grab the sign, friend Barclay.” Ned walked out of his ‘inner sanctum’ with a cola in his hand and a smug grin on his face. He put his hand on Barclay’s shoulder, probably to be condescending, but the effect was ruined when you took into account the fact he had to reach up about a foot and a half to even get to Barclay’s shoulder. “Daylight’s a-wasting, and I want to make the most out of our time today.”  
Barclay glared daggers at Ned, who ignored him, cheerfully walked behind a reception desk and started rooting through the drawers. Barclay sighed and shoved his head into the wookie cowl. This was, apparently, the thanks he got for trying to be supportive of Jake. To be fair, he really underestimated Duck, and it was kinda his fault for betting against Ned ‘fucking’ Chicane in the first place.  
The mask was now snugly in place, and it severely limited Barclay’s peripheral vision. Good. At least he wouldn’t see everybody in Kepler laughing at him while he stood on the corner and spun the sign around like a-Oh god, Ned had pulled out a cam corder. Jesus, Barclay would rather get hog-tied and dropped in front of Stern like a Christmas present than do this. Okay, maybe not that, but he would rather be doing anything else.  
He grabbed the sign, took one look at it, and set it back down. “Ned, this wasn’t part of the deal.”  
“Oh, wasn’t it? I specifically remember you saying that if you lost our little wager, you’d work a whole day for me at the Cryptonomica, and with your tall stature and striking figure, advertising is the natural choice! I’m not going to stick you behind a desk all day if you can bring in business!” Ned turned the camera on and pointed it at Barclay’s head. “Now give me some Bigfoot noises, really sell it!”  
“Ned, I am never cooking for you again if you make me do this. I’ll stand out on the corner and hold a sign if it says something generic, but this,” Barclay flipped the sign towards the camera. In bold, hot pink letters, was I BRAKE FOR BIGFOOT’S BOOTY. DO YOU?. Underneath that, in small print like it was added on as an afterthought, was ‘come to the Cryptonomica’. “Is crossing several lines. Ned. Ned, I can’t brake for my own booty, I wouldn’t fucking get anywhere! What does this-what are you trying to accomplish here?!”  
“Whoa, I said Bigfoot noises, not Sasquatch sass! And for the record,” Ned turned and winked at the camera. “I’m doing this to embarrass you. Now get out there and spin that sign!”  
Barclay spent about two minutes working through the five stages of grief. Finally, his shoulders slumped and he trudged out the door, sign in hand. Barclay was a lot of things, but let it be known that he accepted his losses and paid his debts like any good silf would.  
He stood in front of the Cryptonomica and held the sign above his head. Jeez, it was really hot. Was sweat getting into his eyes? Was that a thing that happened with humans?  
“Jazz it up, Bigfoot!” Ned leaned out the door, cam corder in hand.  
Barclay swallowed a frustrated scream, along with the urge to yell that Ned wasn’t the boss of him. Technically, he was today, and Barclay got the sense that this is what Hell was. Him, dressed up as himself in the middle of July, sweating under the noonday sun and twirling a sign around in public, while Ned shouted suggestions and filmed the whole thing.  
Barclay spun the sign dejectedly and tried not to pass out from heat stroke. Eventually, Ned must have decided he had gotten enough blackmail material and wandered back inside, probably to stand in front of the nearest A/C.  
Barclay kept spinning the sign and did his best to ignore the honking from the road and the occasional chuckle from a pedestrian walking by. After a bit, once he got used to the stifling mask and the feeling of drowning in sweat, he managed to zone out and think about something other than his misery.  
He hoped Mama and Dani were handling the lunch rush okay. It normally wasn’t that busy up at the lodge, but sometimes a few townies would wander through and order something, and once in a blue moon it actually got busy. Not to mention his daily tasks of cooking and cleaning up for Amnesty’s usual residents, which could be trying. Honestly, he loved and respected Mama, and trusted her with his life, but that didn’t mean he trusted her with his kitchen. Hopefully Dani would keep the place clean.  
Barclay stumbled a bit, a wave of vertigo passing over him. This really was a stupid idea. Not the stupidest thing he’d ever done on a dare or a bet, but it was definitely up there. He might have to put this on his list of Things He’d Never Do Again, which included riding the New York subway and getting drunk enough that running through the woods naked to earn five bucks sounded like a good idea. Some time passed, and Barclay started to get tired. He perked up a bit when he heard someone shout at him from across the street.  
“Kirby?” Barclay turned to the familiar voice, and saw Duck Newton walking across the street towards him, holding a bag of groceries. “I thought Ned agreed to only make ya do this in the winter. It’s hot as balls out here, whatcha doing in that stupid suit?”  
“Not Kirby. Wait, Kirby does this too? I thought Ned made this job up to torture me.” Barclay lowered the sign and squinted through the mask.  
“Naw, this is somethin’ Ned does to ‘bring in business’.” Duck made air quotes with his free hand. “Wait. That you Barclay?”  
“I lost a bet.” Barclay pulled his mask off and nearly cried when a cool breeze hit his face. “I bet against you in that little contest you had with Jake last Saturday, sorry about that, and now I have to work a day at the Cryptonomica.”  
“Damn. If I knew this’s what Ned would’ve made ya do, I’d have tried to lose. You’ll sweat to death out here with that thing on.” Duck gestured to the costume. “How long’ve ya been out here?”  
Barclay felt woozy. “Depends. What time is it?”  
“‘Bout 4:30.”  
“Oh. Really? Oh. Then around three hours.” Barclay rubbed his eyes. Had the sun always been this bright?  
“Jesus. We gotta getcha inside and give you some fluids, man. You’re still sweatin’, which is better than bein’ dry, so you probably just have heat exhaustion. C’mon.” Duck started heading into the Cryptonomica.  
“I’m fine, Duck. I’ve overheated before, and I’m not too bad off at the moment. I’ll probably just head back to Amnesty.” Barclay tossed the sign down, and the mask and started fiddling with the zipper to the costume. “Tell Ned where I went? There’s only a half hour left in my ‘shift’, so he probably won’t be too upset.”  
“You sure? Ya ain’t lookin’ too good.”  
“I’m sure. I can cut through the woods, it’ll be plenty shady.” Damn, this zipper was giving him trouble.  
“Alright then. But before ya leave,” Duck reached into his grocery bag and tossed a blue bottle at Barclay. He caught it. It was Gatorade, one of the zero-calorie ones, and Barclay cracked it open and started chugging.  
“Thanks, Duck. I’ll pay you back for this later.” Barclay took another swig.  
“Naw, ya don’t have to. Probably needed it more than me. I’m gonna talk to Ned, you head home.” Duck nodded at Barclay, then slipped through the door, into the Cryptonomica.  
Barclay tried the zipper again and started walking home, heading into the woods to take a shortcut. How did Ned get out of this thing? The zipper was practically rusted shut, and the fact that it was on his back didn’t make it any easier to use.  
Eh, he’d take it off when he got back to the lodge. Someone around would happily help him out of this stupid thing, then he could give it back to Ned the next time he stopped by the lodge. Maybe clean it first.  
Barclay ducked under a branch. It had been a while since he took this trail, and it was in need of a bushwhacking. Normally, he’d go for an early morning walk before he had to start breakfast, but ever since Stern got here he’d been a little paranoid, and even started keeping his bracelet on in the shower. It had been nine months since Stern arrived, though, and all he had done was pour over every issue of the lamplighter. He would probably take off soon, then Barclay and the rest of the lodge could loosen up a bit. God knows he needed-  
THWAP  
Barclay found himself yanked off the ground by his legs and dangling upside down. It happened so fast his head started spinning (though that might have been the heat exhaustion) and he dropped his now-empty Gatorade bottle on the ground. The trap had managed to lift him about four feet off the ground, which was impressive and there was a hefty amount of high-end rope wrapped around his legs.  
Well. Fuck.  
He had gotten caught up in all kinds of traps before, back when he was running from his past and went on a tour of America, and this honestly wasn’t so bad. He’d been in a couple of twitch up traps before, and getting caught by a snare was always better than having a steel jaw close on him. He still had a bunch of scars from that nasty one back in ‘93. With rope, all he had to do was cut himself free.  
He reached for the hunting knife he always kept around his belt, in case of abominations, and patted cheap faux fur.  
Goddamn it, he was still in the stupid wookie costume. The knife was right there, but he couldn’t get to it.  
“Fuck.” This would be a lot harder without a knife. Not impossible, but it’d take time that he’d rather spend in front of a fan with a cool rag on his face. His head hadn’t stopped spinning, and being upside down was making him nauseous. This was a really shitty day. He needed to get a dartboard with Ned Chicane’s face on it, so every time he got screwed over by him he could throw stuff at that smug bastard grin. At least now no one could see his humiliation.  
“Barclay?”  
God fucking dammit, he needed to stop thinking positive things, that just made everything worse.  
Barclay turned his head and was faced with an upside-down Stern. Great, this must be his trap. He looked terribly out of place, wearing his spiffy black suit and shades in the middle of the monongahela forest, but Barclay was in a borrowed wookie costume hanging by his ankles, so he couldn’t really judge.  
Stern looked frustrated and a little disappointed. “Why,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, displacing his sunglasses a bit. “Are you wandering the woods dressed as Bigfoot, Barclay?”  
“Ned Chicane.”  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
Barclay sighed. “You were there for that skateboarding contest between Duck and Jake, right? I bet Jake would win, and I lost, so I had to work for Ned for a day. He had me dressed up as Bigfoot, spinning a sign in front of the Cryptonomica! I was heading home through here, because apparently I have heat exhaustion, when I got caught in this stupid trap!”  
Stern softened, his FBI facade slipping away. “Oh god, sorry. Here, I’ll let you down.” He walked over to where the trap was anchored and started to untie the rope. “I set this up because there have been reports of Bigfoot sightings along this trail. When I finally got the alert the trap was sprung, I rushed out here. I’m glad I set an alert up, or else you might have been stuck out here for a while.” The rope slackened, and Barclay fell to the ground with a thump. “Good thing you weren’t here long. With, well, the Bigfoot sightings, I don’t think it would be very safe to be tied up in the forest.”  
Barclay tried to contain his laughter, but a strained chuckle escaped. “Well, thanks for freeing me.” He stood up slowly and brushed a few twigs off the costume. “I’m gonna go to the lodge now.”  
“Do you need an escort back?” Stern looked vaguely guilty, but it was hard to tell with the glasses.  
“No, I’m good. You can set your trap back up or whatever.”  
Stern nodded and started mumbling to himself. Barclay walked as quickly as possible away from him, back towards Amnesty. After the day he had, Barclay just wanted to get home, drink a gallon of water, maybe make himself a nice dinner and lay on the couch under the ceiling fan. He finally broke through the woods and into the clearing surrounding the lodge, and was met by Aubrey.  
“Hey, Barclay! How were things?” She smiled and stood directly in front of him, blocking his view from the lodge. “Did you...do stuff? And have a good time?”  
Barclay sighed. “No, Aubrey, I did not have a good time. I actually had a fairly shitty day.” He tried to step around her, but she moved back into his path.  
“Jeez! That’s too bad! I hope YOU AREN’T TOO ANGRY!!!”  
“Why are you shouting?” He winced at the volume.  
“Uhhhh no reason!” She looked over her shoulder quickly, then back at him. “Wait, why are you still wearing Ned’s costume?”  
“I think the zipper got stuck. I tried getting it off on the way over here.” Barclay reached behind him and felt around for the zipper. He really wanted this thing to come off.  
“Oh, I can help you with that!! Turn around!!” Aubrey grabbed his midsection and spun him around quickly.  
Barclay knew that she was distracting him from whatever was going on behind him, but at this point, he was too tired to care. Honestly, he just wanted to get out of the damn wookie suit. Aubrey fiddled around for a moment, probably purposefully taking her time. Finally, he heard the sweet sound of the costume unzipping. He peeled it off, disgusted at how moist it had gotten. “Thanks, Aubrey. I’m going to go inside now.”  
“No, wait! I’ve got a new magic trick! That I want to show you!!”  
Barclay gently pushed Aubrey out of the way and headed for the entrance to the lodge. There was a loud crash, and what sounded like Mama cussing up a storm as soon as he opened the door. Aubrey ran up behind him and nearly crashed into Barclay’s back.  
Inside, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the window that showed into the kitchen, was Jake, Mama and Dani. Jake smiled nervously when he saw Barclay, Mama was glaring at Aubrey, and Dani was staring into the middle distance with a panicked expression. Barclay looked around the rest of the lodge, but nothing seemed out of place. Huh, so just his kitchen was destroyed. After the day he had, he couldn’t muster up the energy to care at the moment.  
“Can someone hand me a water bottle?” He sighed.  
Barclay heard the fridge open, and after a moment, a well manicured hand with a clunky wristwatch pushed between Jake and Mama, holding a water bottle. “Pizza.”  
“Thanks Billy.” Barclay took the water. “I’m going to my room to lie down. Fix whatever happened, and don’t bother me for a bit. I’ve had a hell of a day.”


End file.
